Weight of the World
by Jordan Trevor
Summary: Kathryn, Chakotay, Katie, Kolo, and another slice of life…


Finally, he had fallen asleep, his breathing steady and even, no longer labored. And as much as she wanted to remain by his side, her hand resting gently against the solid warmth of his chest, she needed to return to their quarters. When she'd left, a little before midnight, the children had been asleep, exhausted after a long evening of worrying, yet fairly assured that their father would recover. She, however, had needed another visit to sickbay in order to reassure herself, a captain's brave front extending only so far in light of the situation.

The Doctor, who always saw through her façade, explained again: severe concussion, several broken ribs, bruised spleen, fractured hip – all repaired and knitting nicely due to his talented handiwork. He'd be in sickbay for a few days and another few days of rest after that, but then her first officer and husband would be back by her side, right where he'd been for over 20 years.

She smiled at the thought, then pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before leaving him in the Doctor's capable hands.

It was late – or early – the wee hours of the morning, Chakotay sometimes teased when they found themselves awake somewhere between 0300 and 0400, their quarters still and silent, a contrast to their often hectic daily life – a calm before the storm of the next day – stolen moments, the warmth of his arms around her, his heart beating against hers.

Another smile as she stepped through the door, and a sigh, knowing he would be fine, yet missing him already as the shadows of the room surrounded her, the starlight shining silver and grey in familiar patterns over the floor and across the walls and furniture.

She drew in a sudden breath, surprised to see Katie, a silhouette against the viewport, her back to the door.

Kathryn didn't say anything. Instead, she crossed the room to stand close behind her, wrapping her in her arms, feeling the press of bone and tension of muscle, no longer the shoulders of a girl, but a young woman. When did that happen?

Another breath, another exhalation.

"He's going to be all right, Katie."

Whispered words in the silence, heavy yet hollow.

"You always say that."

A reassurance heard too many times.

Kathryn tilted her head against the wisps of her daughter's auburn hair, soft on her cheek.

"He always is."

Another whisper – a hope, a prayer.

"This time."

An accusation and a truth.

There would be another time.

There always was.

Kathryn sighed. "We've had this conversation before."

Katie stiffened and pulled away from her mother's embrace, turning to face her. "You could have sent someone else…"

Kathryn started to respond.

"Someone younger." Katie's mouth hardened into a firm line, her jaw set, hands fisted at her side.

And Kathryn almost laughed. For all that she looked like her Aunt Phoebe, in that moment she was the image of Chakotay, the man she'd technically just accused of being old.

"I wouldn't let your father hear you say that." She smiled, reaching down and taking her daughter's hands in hers, holding them securely. A deep breath, and then, "I sent my first officer because he was needed on the mission. That's all I can take into consideration." She tightened her grasp, her gaze fastened to the blue-grey storm of her eyes. "But that's not all I think about. He's my best friend, my confidante, my rock, the man that I love… the father of my children. And every time he leaves this ship, I hold on to that until he returns." She squeezed Katie's hands. "Sometimes all we can do is just hold on."

And with that, she pulled her close and held her, pressing her hands to her shoulders again, narrow yet firm, solid, a strength she'd inherited from both of them .

She felt her take a breath, let it out slowly, and then a step back. The storm in her eyes had calmed, anger replaced with something else.

Acceptance and understanding.

~vVv~

A few days later, he insisted on walking back to their quarters, stubbornly ignoring the Doctor's suggestion of a site-to-site transport. Kathryn shook her head at the Doctor's exasperation: the roll of his eyes, the muttered words of disapproval, the sidelong glance he gave her, thinking that perhaps, as the captain, she might step in and support his recommendation. Then the long-suffering sigh when he realized that, as the wife, she wasn't about to stand in Chakotay's way, literally or figuratively.

"Yes, well, I suppose if you fall, someone will pick you up," he conceded, casting his eyes around the assembled family members.

"He won't fall," Kolo promised, already tugging on his father's hand, leading him toward the doors that swept open before them.

Katie followed, the look on her face not quite as certain as her brother's. Kathryn knew she'd seen his hesitancy as he'd slid from the edge of the biobed, the slowness in his step, the way he favored his right side. Even with the miracles of modern medicine, fractured hips took a little time to heal, especially at his age.

"Are you going to catch him?" Katie questioned Kolo as they moved into the corridor, taking up a position to the left of Chakotay.

Kathryn exchanged one last look with the Doctor, then took up the rear, feeling a bit like a shepherd, prodding lost sheep in the direction of home.

"If I have to," Kolo shot back, although he'd already dropped Chakotay's hand, gamboling ahead of them, walking backwards and launching into the middle of a story about Tom and Owen.

As their journey progressed, and the story unfolded, Chakotay nodded at what seemed to be the appropriate times, but Kathryn could tell he wasn't giving all of his attention to Kolo; most of his focus was on his feet and keeping his back straight – maintaining the illusion after long minutes of measured walking that his refusal of the site-to-site transport was a good call - a call Kathryn had let him make – and one she was regretting as his pace grew slower.

Just steps from the turbolift, he stopped, braced his right hand against the bulkhead.

Kathryn started to reach for him, but Katie moved closer. "Dad?"

"I'm fine," he assured, leaning in and draping an arm around his daughter, letting her help support him.

Katie stood taller.

And Kathryn smiled.

Chakotay's little girl, her namesake.

Not so little anymore and a person in her own right.

With shoulders that could carry the weight of the world.

~The End~


End file.
